


Usual time, usual place

by partypaprika



Category: Original Work
Genre: Failures in disguising, M/M, Mediocre puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-18 10:44:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5925561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partypaprika/pseuds/partypaprika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why, hello there, citizen that I have never met before,” Wondrous Gent said as he carefully placed Miles down. Miles tried to take deep breaths to cut off the quickly escalating feeling of panic inside his chest.</p><p>“Are you all right?” Wondrous Gent said, looking very concerned. “I ask only since we have never met before and I would therefore have no reason to know if this quick breathing verging on hyperventilation is normal for you or not.”</p><p>Miles rolled his eyes, his panic marginally receding in the face of such sheer boneheadedness. “Seriously? I know who you are, Mark Brent, as you come into my store every day. Like I can’t recognize you without glasses?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Usual time, usual place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumi/gifts).



> For Sumi--I had a lot of fun writing your prompt! I hope that you enjoy :)

When Astral Wampum (“Your money, our coffee,” ©), transferred Miles to its mid-city location, Miles expected everything that came with a new job. There would inevitably be the nuances of a new location. Yes, technically all of the Astral Wampum equipment was standard, but the steamers were always a little bit different and, inevitably, each location had a slightly different indoor temperature that took getting used to.

Plus, Miles would have to do the song and dance of working with new co-workers. Some would be nice off the bat, others would be pricklier. Just about everyone would come around in the end.

Miles was not, on the other hand, expecting hazing from his new co-workers.

 

“Come on, guys,” Miles said on the last day of his first week at mid-city. “It’s just getting old now.”

“What’s getting old now?” Jenny, Miles’s manager, asked.

“The hazing…with the Wondrous Gent look-a-like,” Miles said, rolling his eyes. “You guys are totally hilarious.”

Jenny gave Miles a side look. “What in the seven hells are you talking about?”

After the initial shock on the first day when Miles had actually thought that Wondrous Gent, the city’s beloved superhero, was in their Astral Wampum shop, Miles had forced himself to play it cool. After all, he figured that when his colleagues didn’t get the reaction they were looking for, the joke would be over. Clearly, five days later, they were dedicated to the task.

Miles gave Jenny a look back. “Getting some guy who looks like Wondrous Gent to come in for the past few days to freak me out before initiating me onto the team. I get it, I bow before your awesome might, you guys really got me good,” Miles said.

Jenny just shook her head slowly, clearly indicating that she thought Miles was crazy. “Right,” she said and handed Miles a fresh cup with a speculoos tacchiato order written on it.

Miles rolled his eyes, but took the cup and got back to work. It was ok—if they wanted to keep pranking him, Miles would continue to play it cool. Eventually they would get bored of it.

 

Sure enough right at 3 p.m. on Miles’s next shift, he appeared. More specifically, the joker recruited by Miles’s new colleagues got in the back of the mid-afternoon coffee break line. It was absolutely clear that he had been picked for his resemblance to Wondrous Gent. Miles could swear that this guy was in fact wearing the Wondrous Gent outfit underneath his suit. Clearly the guy was dedicated to the prank.

 But this time, Miles was not going to go down without a fight. So, Miles kept an eye out the entire time for his colleagues, trying to gauge their reactions. They were going to get another thing coming to them. 

But when the guy got to the front of the line, none of Miles’s colleagues even batted an eye. There were no phones out, no one secretly recording Miles making an idiot in front of himself thinking that he was seeing Wondrous Gent. In fact, no one was paying Miles and his customer any attention.

Huh. That was weird.

“What would you like?” Miles said, still trying to surreptitiously watch his surroundings. Still nothing.

“Blueberry ricotta tacchiato,” Wondrous Gent look-a-like said. Still no action from the colleagues. Jenny was taking another customer’s order and Jaya and Vern were making drinks. Miles leaned a little bit closer to get a look at the Wondrous Gent look-a-like. The resemblance was really amazing. Maybe he was a professional impersonator or something.

“Alto, gordo or obesidade mórbida?” Miles asked after the look-a-like started getting nervous with Miles’s staring and pushed up his glasses a few times. 

“Small, I mean, alto,” Wondrous Gent look-a-like said.

“Name?” Miles said.

“Mark Brent,” Wondrous Gent look-a-like, or rather Mark, said. Mark pushed his glasses up again. Maybe for emphasis.

Miles scribbled Mark’s name on the cup and collected money from Mark. After Miles passed the cup to Jaya, he squinted at Mark one more time.

“Are you sure that you didn’t hire that guy to pretend to be Wondrous Gent?” Miles said to Jaya.

“Which guy?”

When Miles pointed Mark out, Jaya turned to Miles with a look of skepticism on her face. “That guy? He doesn’t look even like Wondrous Gent—he’s wearing glasses and a suit and looks like he would quiver slightly if someone started yelling at him. Clearly not the beautifully sculpted and confident hero that constantly saves our city’s collective ass. If I was playing a joke on you, I would have done a better casting job.”

“Right,” Miles said as he turned to the next customer, although he couldn’t shake the weird feeling in his stomach.

 

  

When Mark came in the next day, 3 p.m. on the dot, Miles was making drinks. But Miles had spent a solid hour moogle image-ing the hell out of Wondrous Gent and was more than prepared. While Miles made Mark’s drink, he kept sneaking peeks at Mark waiting to collect his alto maple protein pancake tacchiato.

Mark kept catching Miles in the act of staring, each time reaching up to push his glasses back up his nose. But even taking the glasses into account, there was no two ways about it, Mark was totally Wondrous Gent. They both had the same face, same nose and same height. Even Mark’s boxy suit couldn’t hide his build, although it fitted a little awkwardly in certain areas—probably due to the presence of a spandex costume underneath it.

 

 

“Has anyone ever told you that you look like Wondrous Gent?” Miles said the next time that he rang up Mark. 

Mark blanched slightly and pushed his glasses back so hard, Miles felt a sympathy pain in the bridge of his own nose. 

“Nope, never,” Mark said. “In fact, people tell me I look just like that one actor.”

“Which one actor?” Miles asked, skeptically.

“Um,” Mark said, looking around Astral Wampum. His gaze landed on one of the magazines for sale below the register. “Manny Rabito.”

 Miles couldn’t hold in a laugh. “Isn’t he about a foot shorter than you and have a little bit more weight?”

“Nope,” Mark said, clearly committed to his path. “I guess we just happen to have the same kind of appearance and features.”

“Uh huh,” Miles said. Just for the added benefit of watching Mark squirm, Miles drew a little stick version figure of Wondrous Gent on the cup. Manny Rabito—that was going to be the highlight of Miles’s day for sure.

 

“Did you draw a picture of Wondrous Gent on the coffee cup?” Jenny asked after Mark left the store.

“Uh, yes?” Miles said.

“Man, you are obsessed with the guy,” Jenny said.

“No, it’s just…” Miles trailed off, trying to think how to explain it.

“Look, your fetishes are between you and yourself,” Jenny said.

“No, wait,” Miles said hurriedly. “It’s not like that.” But Jenny had already begun making another drink. Miles groaned but turned back to the till.

 

 

Occasionally, Mark came into Astral Wampum with one of his colleagues, a loud talking woman that made Jaya hyperventilate with excitement every time she entered the store.

“Oh my god,” Jaya breathed out the first time. “It’s Louise Thoroughfare!”

“Who?” Miles asked as he rang up the customer in front of him.

“How do you not know?” Jaya said, squealing. “She’s won like a bajillion awards for her reporting. She’s amazing.”

 “Brent, we need to get down to The Rock,” Louise said to Mark as they approached the till. “Coffee, black,” Louise said to Miles without taking another breath.

 “I apologize, we don’t serve coffee,” Miles said. It wasn’t a big deal—some first time customers always got confused. Louise looked at him for a second. “We only have coffee-derived drinks?” Miles said, a little hesitantly. Louise kept staring. “But I bet we can find some coffee.”

 “Good,” Louise said and started to move down the counter. Jaya had leapt at the opportunity to be useful to Louise and had already started rummaging in the cabinets to see what she could find.

“Triple pressionado sugar cane tacchiato,” Mark said.

Whoa. Miles stopped and really took a good look at Mark. He seemed utterly exhausted. “You ok?” Miles asked.

Mark shrugged. “It’s been a rough couple of days,” he said.

 Miles took a second and thought back to the recent news. Wondrous Gent had been sighted in Southeast Asia helping evacuate people from heavy flooding, in South America stopping a drug cartel and single-handedly rescuing over two hundred people in Europe in a human trafficking ring. That must be a lot, even for a superhero.

“Here, this one is on me today,” Miles said, scribbling down the order. Mark started to protest. “No, no, I insist,” Miles said. “I refuse to accept your money, although please don’t tell my boss that as that is literally the opposite of our company mission.”

 Mark chuckled, as if he couldn’t help himself. “Alright,” he said and then started moving down the counter. He kept eye contact with Miles for longer than usual, not even needing to fiddle with his glasses. Which of course made it even funnier when Mark picked up his drink and Louise asked him loudly, “Why is there a stick figure drawing of Wondrous Gent on your cup?”

Mark glared at Miles before turning to Louise and adopting the most befuddled look that Miles had seen. “I don’t know—I think that they do it for all the regulars.”

“Hm,” Louise said, sounding a little put off. “I want one on mine too.”

“Maybe next time,” Mark said and then hurried Louise out of the store.

 “Hey,” Jaya said, considering. “Looks like your Wondrous Gent fetish could possibly have an upside—Louise Thoroughfare wants one on her cup!” 

“I’ve told you a million times,” Miles hissed. “I do not have a Wondrous Gent fetish.”

 “Think of the greater good here,” Jaya said earnestly. Mike ignored her and got back to work.

 

 

Quickly, Miles fell into the rhythm of working at mid-city. Most of his shifts coincided with Mark’s 3 p.m. visit, which soon became the highlight of Mark’s workday. Each day, Miles tried to read Mark and figure out who he was beyond the glasses and Wondrous Gent persona.

Despite Mark’s good looks, no one else in the crowd ever really seemed to notice him. And with the exception of Louise Thoroughfare, he never came in with anyone else. It seemed incomprehensible that someone who was that good looking and saved the world in his free time didn’t have a million people clamoring to be friends.

It must be very lonely to be Mark and Wondrous Gent, Miles realized after a while. So, Miles made it his mission to engage Mark in conversation whenever he had the chance.

“Where are you from originally? Unless you were born right here in Urbansburg?” Miles asked one day. “Although you seem like you’re from somewhere that actually grows real food instead of just shipping it in.”

Mark looked at Miles. Miles kept his gaze level. “I’m from Nebraska,” Mark said finally.

 “Huh,” Miles said, thinking it over. “Cool.” That day he drew a stick figure Wondrous Gent with a plow. Mark glared at him but Miles was fairly certain that it was a half-hearted glare at best.

Another day, Miles found out that Mark worked with Louise over at The Rock as a journalist. Miles spent some time googling Mark’s byline and felt an odd sense of pride as he read through Mark’s quality investigative journalism pieces.

When he asked Mark about it the next day, Mark blushed and mumbled something faintly which made Miles feel like he’d done something right. After that, Miles made sure to set up a moogle-alert for pieces written by Mark and ask about them after they were published.

 

 

For a while, that was all that existed between the two of them—snippets of conversation and stick figure drawings at 3 p.m. every day. Sometimes, Miles wished that he had the courage to see if Mark wanted to hang out in a non-corporate coffeehouse, maybe as friends, maybe as something else (look—Miles wasn’t blind). But courage wasn’t Miles’s strong suit so Miles didn’t say anything.

And then the Evil Strength Man incident happened.

See, as creative as Miles like to think he was, he apparently hadn’t thought the superhero-visiting-coffee-shops-thing through. If Miles had extrapolated out, he might have realized that if there were superheroes visiting the mid-city Astral Wampum, couldn’t there also be hypothetical supervillains visiting the mid-city Astral Wampum?

 Of course the answer was yes.

 

 

“Oh my god, we’re going to die,” Jaya hissed from behind the counter where the two of them were crouched in sheer terror. One of their customers had apparently found his butterscotch twinkie tacchiato with extra jam syrup, one of Astral Wampum’s spring specials, lacking. While Astral Wampum prided themselves on their quality drinks, there were of course errors from time to time. Normally, one of the staff would have just remade the drink. This time, the customer launched straight into temper tantrum mode. 

When it became clear that this man was, in fact, not a normal man but instead, Evil Strength Man, most of the customers and staff fled. Jaya and Miles became stuck when Evil Strength Man threw a table over the counter, blocking Jaya and Miles’s path.

“We’re not going to die,” Miles said, although the squeak of his voice probably was less than comforting.

“YOU MADE ME THIS GOD-AWFUL CONCOCTION,” Evil Strength Man said from the other side of counter.

They were totally going to die.

The next thing that Miles knew, Evil Strength Man had reached over the counter and grabbed Miles. Evil Strength Man picked Miles up as if he weighed no more than an alto cup.

“YOU SHALL PAY FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE,” Evil Strength Man said as he half-dragged Miles outside. And then, before Miles had any chance to steel himself, Evil Strength Man threw Miles—actually threw him like a ball—up into the air.

There was an odd sort of calm in Miles’s mind as he went up into the air. Miles knew that he would be coming down very fast—fast enough that when he hit the ground, he would die. That was it—air, then the sidewalk, and then nothing. Miles closed his eyes.

And then, out of nowhere, someone grabbed ahold of Miles, pulling Miles into their arms and reversing Miles’s trajectory. Miles let out a breath of sheer relief and opened up his eyes to see Wondrous Gent’s chest. Miles wrapped his arms around Wondrous Gent, feeling like he wanted to cry or laugh or maybe do both at the same time. Wondrous Gent’s grip tightened as well, as if he knew what Miles was thinking.

After a few seconds, Wondrous Gent slowed down to a stop and gently touched down on the ground.

 “Why, hello there, citizen that I have never met before,” Wondrous Gent said as he carefully placed Miles down. Miles tried to take deep breaths to cut off the quickly escalating feeling of panic inside his chest.

“Are you all right?” Wondrous Gent said, looking very concerned. “I ask only since we have never met before and I would therefore have no reason to know if this quick breathing verging on hyperventilation is normal for you or not.”

Miles rolled his eyes, his panic marginally receding in the face of such sheer boneheadedness. “Seriously? I know who you are, Mark Brent, as you come into my store every day. Like I can’t recognize you without glasses?”

“Ha, ha,” Wondrous Gent said with forced amusement. “It appears that you have experienced quite a shock, Citizen, perhaps you should seek medical treatment soon.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Miles agreed. But he had just had a near miss with the pavement at a fatal speed and didn’t feel like catering to Wondrous Gent’s ridiculousness. “Still doesn’t change the fact that your disguise consists of a pair of glasses. I’m not an idiot.”

 “I, uh, I, um” Wondrous Gent stammered for a few seconds. “Oh, I think that there is another emergency going on right now.”

Miles looked at Wondrous Gent suspiciously. “What kind of an emergency?”

“Um,” Wondrous Gent said, clearly casting about. “Cats. There are a bunch in a tree. About a dozen. A dozen cats in trees that are about to fall out. If I don’t go save them. Which I’m going to go do now.”

 And then Wondrous Gent took a jumping leap and flew off. Miles immediately felt like a jerk. After all, Wondrous Gent had just saved his life and all Miles had done was threaten him about his secret identity.

“I didn’t even get to say thank you,” Miles said eventually. But then the police and paramedics showed up and Miles focused on that for a while.

 

 

It took a few days for Astral Wampum to be repaired and cleaned up. Thankfully no one had been seriously injured as Evil Strength Man had disappeared in a huff after throwing Miles into the sky. Miles had had a few unpleasant recurring dreams involving falling through the air and a few strange, but more pleasant dreams, about Wondrous Gent’s chest. Miles didn’t need to be a psychologist to understand what they were saying.

 

 

On the first day that Astral Wampum re-opened, Mark showed up at his usual time. 

“Hey, I—” Miles started saying.

“I’m sorry, I’m in a very big hurry today,” Mark said at the same time and handed Miles exact change for a blueberry ricotta tacchiato before shuffling down the counter.

 Miles shook his head ruefully and started writing out the order on a cup. He drew a stick figure version of Wondrous Gent and then a stick figure to represent himself in Wondrous Gent’s arms. He added in two speech bubbles—one said, “Wondrous Gent, you’re my hero!” and the other said, “Thank you.”

When Mark picked up his drink at the end of the counter, he looked at the cup for a second, clearly checking out Miles’s drawing. Mark blushed, the tops of his ears turning a faint red, which Miles found incredibly endearing. Mark glanced up once at Miles and then bolted from the shop.

 

 

It didn’t really change anything, or maybe it did, Miles wasn’t sure. Mark started giving Miles these smiles when Miles took his order. They were almost like secret smiles as if Miles and Mark were in on some joke that no one else got. Mark’s smile always made Miles’s stomach swoop slightly, a rush of warmth and anticipation.

But Miles could never figure out how to ask Mark out and he wasn’t nearly daring enough to put his phone number on Mark’s cup. Mark, for his part, didn’t seem to have any problem with the status quo. So the status…it stayed quo.

 

 

Miles could barely stop fidgeting during his shift. “What is up with you?” Jenny asked. “Stop moving around, it’s making me nervous.”

“Sorry!” Miles said. “I’m just really excited—I got a ticket to the Urbansburg Science Museum’s special exhibit tonight!”

“Oh yeah,” Jenny said. “I heard about that. A one night only thing, right?”

“Yeah, the US military has loaned the museum a bunch of its extraterrestrial rocks,” Miles said. “Apparently this is the first time that they’ve been accessible to the public outside of its crazy high security labs. And I’m going to be there!”

“Wow,” Jenny said. “You are such a nerd. First, the superhero fetish and now a rock thing. Do you also play Cellars and Centaurs?”

“Yes,” Miles said, feeling himself blush. “Although that is beside the point.”

 

 

When Miles showed up for the exhibit, he had to wait in a massive line to get inside. But once he was in, it was totally worth it. Miles started with the room featuring extraterrestrial rocks from outside the solar system, forcing himself to not press his face up against the first glass case to get a better look at the pulsing colors emanating from the rocks.

The next case featured strange blue rocks that seemed to vibrate with their own internal energy. “Wow,” Miles said, unable to look away for a long time. Eventually recognizing that he had to leave at some point to see the other cases, he turned around straight into a very firm chest.

“Sorry!” Miles said, looking up to see Mark. Mark looked just as surprised as Miles felt. “Mark? What are you doing here?”

“Ah,” Mark said, stepping back and gently pulling Miles out of the crown around the case. Mark rubbed the back of neck. “Louise and I are here to interview some sources about the potential resources that these rocks could provide us with.”

“Wow,” Miles said. “Very cool.” Miles opened his mouth to ask where Louise was when Mark started talking at the same time.

“You go first,” Miles said.

“No, no, you,” Mark said. They both laughed nervously.

Neither one of them ended up going first because before either of them could talk again, a loud blast sounded above them, knocking them both to their feet, as someone blew off the roof of the Urbansburg Science Center.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your evening,” a loud voice, which didn’t sound sorry in the slightest, said. “But I also want to take a look at these fascinating specimens.”

Miles frowned. He knew that voice. “Is that…Tex Toother?” Miles whispered to Mark, his heart racing. People had begun screaming and running out of the room, but it felt very far away from Mark, who looked as calm and steady as someone in a library studying.

Mark grabbed Miles’s hand and squeezed it once. “Get out of here,” Mark said. “As fast as you can.”

And then a dozen heavily armed men descended from ropes into the Science Center. Mark disappeared suddenly and there was a sick feeling in Miles’s stomach, but he forced himself up and began creeping towards the emergency exit.

Most everyone had evacuated immediately, leaving just Mark, Tex Toother and his henchmen in the main exhibition room. When Miles risked a look back, Wondrous Gent was fighting with one of the henchmen, knocking the henchman out with the butt of his own gun and then throwing the man into two others that were advancing on Wondrous Gent.

Miles wanted to turn back and help, but Wondrous Gent looked like he could take care of himself. The only thing that Miles was really capable of doing was being a distraction. So Miles turned back around and kept following the crowd to the exit.

Miles was almost to the exit when another loud explosion shook the building. Miles fell backwards against the wall, hitting his head soundly. Miles sat there dazed for a minute before pushing himself to his feet. Yet another explosion went off, although Miles managed to catch himself this time by holding onto a nearby pillar.

“Coming through,” someone called from behind Miles. Miles turned just in time to see Wondrous Gent flying down the hall. Without missing a beat, Wondrous Gent picked up Miles and then flew them through a recently shattered window.

They kept going up and up, the air cold against Miles’s skin, as they flew over the city. Eventually they came to a stop on top of an older building and Wondrous Gent set Miles down, keeping one hand on Miles’s arm in order to steady him.

“Are you ok?” Wondrous Gent asked.

Miles nodded, his head aching, but manageably so. “Yeah, I’m fine. What about you? Are you ok?” Miles said.

Wondrous Gent smiled, the same one that always made Miles’s stomach flip flop. “Yeah, Gent of Titanium, remember?”

“Right,” Miles said, feeling a little silly. He looked around, not sure if he could handle the intensity in Wondrous Gent’s green eyes. “Wait, where are we?”

“My apartment building,” Wondrous Gent said. And somehow that made it more real—this wasn’t just Wondrous Gent, this was also Mark Brent, and he had brought Miles to where he lived, trusting Miles with his huge secret.

“Thank you,” Miles said, meeting Wondrous Gent’s eyes. Wondrous Gent held Miles’s gaze but didn’t say anything.

“Hey,” Miles said softly. Wondrous Gent hadn’t moved his hand from Miles’s arm. The heat from Wondrous Gent felt good, almost too good, and it made Miles feel brave.

Miles placed his hand at the small of Wondrous Gent’s back and slowly pulled him in. Wondrous Gent went with Miles, bringing them close together.

Wondrous Gent brought up his free hand and gently cupped Miles’s cheek, running his thumb over Miles’s cheekbone. Miles closed his eyes as Wondrous Gent leaned in and then they were kissing, the Wondrous Gent’s lips warm against Miles’s and Miles felt like he was drowning, falling deep, with Wondrous Gent’s arm being the only thing keeping him up.

Eventually Wondrous Gent pulled away and Miles panted for a few minutes, trying to collect his breath. It was incredibly unfair that Wondrous Gent didn’t need to breathe.

“I’m so glad that you’re ok, Miles,” Wondrous Gent, or rather Mark, said. Miles decided that if they were going to be kissing, Miles refused to think of him as Wondrous Gent.

“You know my name,” Miles said, a little stupidly as his brain failed to come back online.

Mark gave Miles a sideway look. “Of course, I see you every day.”

Now it was Miles’s turn to blush. “I’m glad I’m ok too,” Miles said. “Especially since it’s all due to you.”

Mark tried to wave Miles off but Miles soldiered forward. “No, I didn’t get to say this last time,” Miles said. “Seriously, you saved me. You’re amazing.”

Mark’s eyes suddenly got big and he tensed up. “Wait,” Mark said. “Are you just doing this because I rescued you? The superhero ethics committee is going to have a field day.”

Miles couldn’t help but laugh. At first Mark looked confused, but when Miles kept laughing, Mark started smiling as well. When Miles finally felt like he could breathe again, he pressed a quick kiss to Mark’s mouth.

“Definitely not. I mean I’ve been drawing stick figure drawings on your cups for months. I’ve endured countless remarks about potentially having a Wondrous Gent fetish from all my co-workers, so I think it’s safe to say that I’m not doing this because I feel grateful.” 

“Oh,” Mark said, a little dumbly. “That’s good.” He leaned in and started kissing Miles again.

“Wait,” Mark said suddenly, pulling back. “Do you have a Wondrous Gent fetish?”

“Oh my god,” Miles said. “Stop talking right now.” And then neither of them talked for a very long time.


End file.
